At the door of his house stood Miss Aglaia. She had heard him coming and had hastened to meet him. It frightened Crammon, for the hour was late.
“There is a lady in the drawing-room,” Miss Aglaia whispered. “She arrived at eight, and has been waiting since then. She besought us so movingly to let her stay that we had not the heart to refuse. She is a distinguished lady, and she has a dear face——”
“Did she tell you her name?” Crammon asked, and the thunder-clouds gathered on his brow.
“No, not exactly——”
“People who enter my dwelling are required to give their names,” Crammon roared. “Is this a railway station or a public shelter? Go in and ask her who she is. I shall wait here.”
In a few minutes Miss Aglaia returned and said in a compassionate tone: “She’s fallen asleep in an armchair. But you can take a peep at her. I’ve left the door ajar.”
On tip-toes Crammon passed through the hall, and peered into the well-lit drawing-room. He recognized the sleeper at once. It was Elise von Einsiedel. She slept with her head leaned back and inclining a little to one side. Her face was pale, with blue circles under her eyes, and her left arm hung down limply.
Crammon stood there in his hat and overcoat, and gazed at her with sombre eyes. “Unhappy child!” he murmured.
He closed the door with all possible precaution. Then he drew Miss Aglaia toward the door and said: “The presence of a strange lady makes it unseemly, of course, for me to pass the night here. I shall find a bed elsewhere. I hope you appreciate my attitude.”
Miss Aglaia was speechless over such purity and sternness. Crammon continued: “As early as possible in the morning, pack my bags and bring them to meet me in time to catch the express to Ostende. And let Constantine come with you, so that I may say good-bye to her as well. Let the strange lady stay here as long as she desires. Entertain her courteously and fulfil all her wishes. She has a sorrow, and deserves kindness. If she asks after me, tell her that urgent affairs require my presence elsewhere.”